Harry Potter - a retelling
by phantomrider2597
Summary: What if Harry had three best friends, if he had met someone else during his fourth year while trying to figure out his egg in the common room at midnight? How would his story have changed?
1. The Goblet of Fire, chapter 21

**Picking up from Goblet of Fire – **_what if Harry had three best friends? If he found another in the Gryffindor common room while trying to figure out his egg in the middle of the night? How would his story change – warning to Ginny fans, she's practically written out of this story._

Harry gave up trying to sleep; he pushed off the blanket and swung his legs off the edge of the four-poster bed. All the other boys were sound asleep, Ron was snoring a little – he was glad they were friends again. Harry stood, ran a hand through his dark hair and walked as quietly as he could towards the door, on impulse grabbing his egg off the bedside table as he went. The door swung open soundlessly, and soon the sound of his footsteps against the cold stone stairs echoed up and down the turret; the wizard thought about casting a silencing charm, then discounted it. What other idiot would be up at – he checked his watch – 18 minutes past two in the morning on a school night.

Weighing the golden egg in his hand, he stared intently at it as he entered the common room, unthinkingly flopping into a slightly tatty armchair by the fire, which flicked the odd serpentine tongue outwards towards him. Harry sighed, and gazed balefully at the stupid egg – for all the clues it had given him, he might as well have let the horntail keep it. He let his head drop back and let his eyes wonder across the ceiling.

"Am I interrupting you?"

Harry leapt to his feet and drew his wand, the egg fell forgotten from his lap to the floor with a faint clang. He raised his eyebrows and felt his heart hammer like a bird fluttering its wings against his chest. He lowered his wand when he saw it was only a girl curled up in a window sheet, hugging her knees against her chest and resting her chin on her knees. "Would you like me to go?"

Harry racked his brains trying to remember the girl's name; she was in his year, he knew that much, and obviously in Gryffindor, but he couldn't for the life of him put her name to her face. A ghost of a smile flicked across her face, showing perfectly straight teeth.

She seemed to recognise he was struggling and she smiled truly. "I'm Alana Winter."

"I'm-"

"Harry Potter – I think everyone in the wizarding world knows your name. And with all the hype at the moment, I'd have to be deaf and dumb not to know you."

Harry had to smile – for all that she appeared shy, it was obvious once she got talking she knew her own mind. The name Winter suited her – her hair was all silvery and her skin milky pale. The only thing that ruined the effect was her eyes, which were either black or deep blue. She uncurled her legs and slipped off the seat – when she stood, she was almost exactly the same height as him. She gestured to the egg. "I'll let you be – you probably want some peace and quiet to figure out your egg."

She walked away, bent, scooped up the egg and handed it to him. She turned and headed towards the Fat Lady painting.

"Hey, wait-" he said impulsively, moving to follow her; Alana turned to look at him, eyes quizzical. "How come you're up?"

She shrugged, her silvery hair rippling like water. "I'm a bit of an insomniac," she explained, looking a little bashful.

"Worse crimes," Harry smiled and handed her the egg. "And you can have a shot – I'm at a loss." Alana simply stared at it, then glanced at Harry and settled back into her window seat; Harry sat down opposite her. There wasn't much space, so he crossed his legs to keep out of her way. She ran her hands all over the egg's surface, tracing the faint indentations where the egg split when unlatched.

"I don't think all the other Gryffindors would be too happy if we woke them at this hour," she said. "Have you any ideas at all?"

Harry shook his head. If it were up to him, he would take his chance and throw the stupid egg out the window, but he knew Hermione would go crazy if he did. "I've not seen you around much."

Alana raised a brow – Harry had always wanted to be able to do that – as if to say 'was that all you could think of'. "I tend to hang around with my own friends – plus, everyone knows Harry Potter is really just a synonym for trouble."

Harry couldn't argue with that. He watched Alana rest her head back against the stone window sill and gazed out into the night. As he watched her, he wondered what it would be like if life were simple – if he weren't the Boy who Lived. Would they have been friends then? There was something very serene and calming about her; just being near her was like drinking a glass of warm milk. Soothing and warming. She looked to him and cocked her head, knowing he wanted to ask her a question before he'd even opened his mouth.

"Do you think I did it? Put my name in the goblet?"

Alana bit her lip but didn't break his gaze. She paused for a while, clearly considering her words carefully. "I think... no," her eyes searched his face before turning back to look out at the stars. "No, I don't think you did. You don't strike me as an attention seeker or as having a death wish," she smiled, resting her forehead against the glass. "I don't know why anyone would put their name into that death trap."

Harry huffed half a laugh, letting out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. For some reason her opinion seemed significant. The minutes past, with them sitting in comfortable silence, absorbed in their own thoughts. It was surprisingly easy, no awkwardness at all. He was glad for once someone wasn't pushing him,for answers, for judgement. But Harry knew he should at least try to get some sleep; he gently took the egg back and stood, drawing her attention. "Goodnight then," she murmured, absentmindedly wrapping a strand of hair around her finger.

"Aren't you going to bed?"

Alana shot him a smile, a little bit sad, a little bit accepting. She shook her head. "I've already had my three hours sleep tonight. I am the literal night owl."

Harry smiled. "Well, night then." He walked across the common room and ducked into the stairwell; again, his footsteps echoed on the stone stairs so he hurried, reached his own dorm and slid back into bed. He set the egg back on the bedside table and closed his eyes, slowing his breathing. For the first time in a while, he closed his eyes and fell straight into a dreamless sleep.


	2. The Goblet of Fire, chapter 22

_Previously; Harry Potter, out of bed after hours (as per norm) met Alana Winter while trying to work out his egg. _

Transfiguration had never held less appeal – catching up with Ron seemed far more important. Harry now found he kept an eye out for Alana in every class – like Hermione, she was always there sharp and had her books out, but unlike Hermione spent most of her time staring out the nearest window with a far away expression in her eyes and dreamy smile on her face. Not that he'd been consciously looking for her. But when he had happened to notice, he had realised her eyes were dark blue, and her hair was actually a medium blonde.

He really had missed being friends with Ron – who else would talk to him during McGonagall's class. Especially when she was staring at him with a death stare; Harry shut up. Fast.

"Now that Mr. Potter has seen fit to listen," she glared at him until his ears turned pink, "I have an announcement-"

"This is horrific," Ron moaned and Harry was highly inclined to agree. The prospect of asking a girl to dance was more terrifying than facing the horntail. They were weaving through the throngs of students in the corridor. "I mean, you fight dragons. If you can't get a date, who can?" Harry shrugged and ducked his head as a group of girls swarmed – really, there was no other word – together, bowed their head like a football team talking tactics and giggled as soon as he glanced at them. Harry knew he was blushing and increased his pace, keeping his head down.

That was probably why he was already barrelling into someone before he saw them – the girl's blonde braid swung as she spun and whacked him in the face. "Watch where you walk, idiot!"

Harry began to apologise even as he turned to look at her – it probably wasn't the best way to start up another conversation with Alana, who looked a little taken a back, but also irritated. Her cheeks were flushed as she stared at him, letting him trip over his own tongue to apologise while Ron looked on, confused. "I'm really sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

Alana shook her head but smiled. "It's fine, I'll live."

A hand stole around her shoulder, and she glanced over her shoulder to smile at another guy – Cedric Diggory. "Oh, hey Harry," Cedric smiled at him confidently. "You okay, you look a little weird..."

"Yeah, I'm fine – I'll see you around," he muttered quickly and turned before anyone else could say anything. Ron gave him a peculiar look as they wove their way back to the Gryffindor corridor.

"Who's she?"

"Oh, her name's Alana... we talked in the common room a while back." Ron shrugged, apparently satisfied. "Now, who are you planning to take to the ball?"

Harry needed to get a move on, but every girl he tried to talk to blushed, giggled and stared at him as if he were an alien who landed on earth and asked for souvenirs. He was hiding in the library, pretending to read a book on the history of magic. Soon all the good ones would be gone as Fred and George said. Okay – this was it, he was going to do it. He closed the book with a slam then – gesturing apologetically to everyone in sight – stuck it back on the shelf haphazardly. Beating a retreat towards the common room he saw Cho Chang coming towards him, smiling brightly with her inky hair bouncing in an enthusiastic rhythm as she walked. She winked at him as she passed, and impulsively Harry spun on his heel and caught her arm, blurting out before she could say a word, "Chowouldyouliketogototheballwithme?"

Her eyebrows retreated into her fringe. "Sorry – I didn't catch that..."

Harry took a steadying breath and clenched his fists. "Would you like to go to the ball with me?"

Cho broke out in a wide grin, and nodded eagerly. "Sure, I'd love to!"

Harry was so relieved when he walked through the portrait hole, it took him a second to realise Ron had a look not unlike that of a petrified person and was being comforted – comforted? – by Ginny and Hermione. "It's alright Ron, just forget it," the latter repeated over and over, patting his shoulder and smiling encouragingly. "Maybe she didn't notice," Ginny suggested, but Ron just glared at her.

"Mate, what happened to you?" Harry asked, sinking into a chair opposite Ron. He spotted Alana sitting in her window seat, watching the unfolding scene with interest out of the corner of her eye while pretending to read the book that lay open on her lap. He shot her a look and she smiled conspiratorially back.

Ron looked at him. "I'm never speaking to a girl again Harry – I'm just not cut out for this..." he trailed off. "Hey, Hermione..." Ron looked at Hermione as though he'd come out of a cave into the sun. "You're a girl!"

Hermione looked hurt. "Oh, well noticed..."

"Well, you and I could go together and Harry-"

Harry shook his head. "Got a date."

"Who?" Ron snapped, then seemed to change his mind. "Never mind, yeah, Hermione you can go with me and-"

"No," Hermione interrupted, "I can't. Someone else asked me, so you'll have to find another girl Ron."

Ron looked shocked, glancing at Harry as if to say, '_she's joking right?'_ Hermione 'ughed' and walked away. Alana watched Hermione hurry up the turret stairs; she met Harry's eyes and dipped her chin in a barely perceivable nod, laid aside her book and followed Hermione as unobtrusively as a shadow through the forest.

"Girls," Ron grumbled, rolling his eyes, "So, who'd you ask?"


End file.
